


Storm, Swell, Sword

by Lycaon Shadowhunter (TachyonStar)



Series: Y'senia's Plot Antics [4]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Biting, Blood, F/M, Here There Be Spoilers, far too much self-indulgence, look I don't even know where the fluff came from, plus one (1) major plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:47:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24670111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TachyonStar/pseuds/Lycaon%20Shadowhunter
Summary: This battle isn't exactly going the way Y'senia had planned. Or even hoped.
Relationships: Zenos yae Galvus/Warrior of Light
Series: Y'senia's Plot Antics [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1756690
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> \--I.
> 
> Look, I don't know. I really don't know. I just wanted to write Zenos doing Senia and then THIS happened.
> 
> AND WHY THE HELL DID IT TURN OUT TO BE TWO PARTS NOW I HAVE TO WRITE ANOTHER CHAPTER--
> 
> (Okay I'm not even actually mad, I just. Wow, plotamari. Roll right over me whydon'tcha.)
> 
> ~~Zenos is best lonely boi sorry but I don't make the rules okay~~
> 
> ...for the record, I also don't know how they even fit together because Senia is like 5'1" and Zenos is 7'8" and what the fuck. I'm just gonna say "it's magic, I ain't gotta explain shit."

Standing before Zenos, his maniacal laughter ringing in my ears, I can't even honestly put words to what it is I feel.  
  
"Such ferocity...such tenacity," he breathes as the laughter calms enough to allow him to speak, taking a slow and measured step forward, and I want to back away even despite the several fulms of distance still between us, but it is as if my feet are simply rooted to the spot. "I am loath to recall how disappointed I was when first we fought...but finally, _finally_ , after bathing in the blood and offal of your enemies, finally you prove yourself worthy prey for the hunt! I could not have orchestrated events in any finer way than they have come to pass... _truly_ , fortune has smiled upon me by bringing you this far, at last a ripened fruit from the tree of war." Another step, he takes, and another, my instincts screaming at me to turn tail and flee but my traitorous legs moving not the slightest bit. "Now, _pray_ tell me something, if you would?"  
  
_I will tell you nothing,_ I want to cry, but no matter how hard I try, my voice is as recalcitrant and unresponsive as the rest of me.  
  
"It fills you even now, doesn't it? The hunger." His face is perfectly calm now, tranquil even, and yet somehow all the more terrifying for it, his eyes seeming to bore into mine with laser-sharp intensity. "To overpower me, to make me helpless before you - _beneath_ you. To bite down on my jugular, to feel the warmth fill your mouth and run over as you drink deep. To have your fill of my body, using it to satiate your own bestial desires as though I am a mere _toy_ created for your usage. Nay, do not speak - I can see it in your eyes," he is directly in front of me now, staring down at me with the very faintest hint of a sharp smile, and for a single heart-stopping moment I have the wrenching fear that he is about to end me right then and there as his blade lifts towards my throat, only to find myself relieved and baffled in equal measure when all he does is settle the flat of it against my neck, sliding it gently over my skin in a whisper-soft caress of shimmering steel that makes my knees feel strangely _weak_. "Those _desires_ , Warrior of Light - they overwhelm you, do they not? They render you helpless, unable to do anything but simply... _react_. Why do you suppress them - why do you not drive them out, when all they do is hold you back?"  
  
The blade leaves my neck, edge glinting in the light, and the terror rises within me again until he does something completely unexpected; he goes to one knee before me, surprisingly graceful even encumbered as he is with the bulky armour that shields him, and I find my gaze inadvertently drawn to the curve of his flawless neck as he tilts his head to bare it, instinctively swallowing hard as I cannot help but focus on the strong pulse that beats there. He must be mad, this must be some sort of trick - but I can do precisely nothing about the alarm bells shrilling in the back of my mind, my eyes widening and my breaths growing quicker as his hand comes up to grasp my chin delicately in armoured fingers. "Good, good...this is the beast I have longed to face. The being of bloodthirst and desire, of single-minded _longing_. And I intend," his voice drops now, nearly a whisper, and as he draws me in closer to him with the gentlest of tugs, I am completely unable to resist. "To enjoy _every_ single moment of this new battle of ours. The stage is set...and we have only to _begin_."  
  
The heat that radiates from him, the scent of him, is enfeebling, _intoxicating_ \- it makes me feel as if my body is no longer my own, and as he deliberately leans forward and presses his neck to my trembling lips, I entirely cease to realise this is any cause for alarm.  
  
My teeth bite deep, the tang of copper filling my senses, and I am lost.  
  
" _Yes_ , just like that. Drink your fill of me," Zenos murmurs, low and rough, wrapping his hand round the back of my head to hold me there though I have no intent to pull away, my nerves alight with the overwhelming heat that is now rising within me. "Sate your thirst, your _hunger_ \- you need not fear, for I desire it _just_ as much as you do. Or perhaps... _more_..." he trails off, into a sound that is some mixture of a laugh, a contented hum and a pleased moan, sending a fierce shiver down my spine. "Ahh...you are _perfect_ , utterly exquisite. I was not wrong in allowing you to live, in supposing you would gain the strength to stand as an equal to me--" his fingers tighten into my hair, sharp metal scraping over my scalp, and the stinging burn is delicious enough I'm forced to release his neck, taking gasping breaths as my head falls back in an attempt to press into the sensation. "Yes...you truly are the perfect partner for this little dance of ours. But I suppose this is no place to bring our true power to bear, lest we bring the entire complex down on our heads before we have the chance to satisfy ourselves."  
  
He releases me, the clawed tips of his gauntlet tracing across my scalp with just enough pressure that my entire body tingles with frustrated pleasure, and gets to his feet, movements still as smooth and graceful as if we hadn't just been sharing such a _carnal_ closeness. "Come, Warrior of Light," he says, and as I look up at him, eyes glazed and blood dripping from my parted lips, he is smiling placidly. "There is a place far more suitable to be found just outside - one where the very _heavens_ can bear witness to what we are to share. I will await you there; I expect you will make haste."  
  
It is almost infuriating, really, how he turns his back to me and leaves with such an _unhurried_ stride, as if the passionate man who held me only moments before no longer exists.  
  
I cannot bear the insult; I stumble to my feet, wipe my mouth clumsily on the edge of a sleeve, and follow him as quickly as I can.  
  
At any other time, I might admire the scenery outside - flowers in a dizzying array of colours, blocks of smooth stone arranged in perfect paths, and a nearly cloudless sky stretching endlessly above - but right now all I can focus on is one thing and that is Zenos himself, standing amidst the largest of the garden beds, his back turned to me and his hair seeming to shimmer beneath the brilliant sunlight. "Punctual as expected," he says as soon as I have drawn within earshot, and I know even before he turns to me that he has that infuriatingly unreadable smile on his face again, fury already beginning to simmer in my chest the very instant I lay eyes on it. "Allow me to welcome you, then, to the Royal Menagerie."  
  
I say nothing, keeping my eyes fixed silently to his face as if to tell him to simply get on with it already, but he predictably does not, making a sweeping motion that encompasses the whole of the area. "The King of Ruin built this place for his foreign queen...he kept it filled with familiar creatures from her homeland, to remind her of the place she had loved so dearly. They bored me all, I admit," his smile takes on a bit of a sharp edge now, and I would almost swear I can see something stirring in the depths of his eyes, but it's indistinct enough I can't honestly be sure if I'm only imagining it. "This fine specimen, on the other hand, is simply...divine--" another gesture, bringing my attention to something I had _somehow_ managed not to notice even the slightest bit, a glistening barrier containing what looks to be naught but a wicked coil of sharp scales and pure malice, the very sight of it eliciting a cold shudder that very nearly manages to dampen the searing heat pulsing through every last ilm of me. "Your fates are entwined, are they not, eikon-slayer? This dragon, this...embodiment of unbridled despair, born of a desperate man's burning hatred for the Empire...how raw the raging tempest that churns within its breast. No myth made manifest, this, but...a being of pure violence. Just like me...and like _you_ , at the very heart."  
  
I want to shake my head, to become angry and shout at him how wrong he is, yet...in the very depths of my mind, I can't help but consider he may actually be _right_.  
  
"Mayhap you are the true architect of our design. You who fought the very soul of vengeance to the edge and watched him fall - you who let slip the Allagan hound to drive this eikon into my arms!" Zenos' laugh holds cold cruelty, as is to be expected, yet underneath it is something strangely _warm_ to my ears, and his gaze is bright with emotion only just restrained when he looks me in the eye once more. "Oh...my. Have I said too much? Forgive me, this...sensation is wholly unfamiliar to me. I know not how you have done it, but you have awakened something that has _long_ lain dormant within me...for doing what none before you ever has, my _dear_ Warrior, I really must reward you. Come here; I believe we were in the middle of something, were we not?"  
  
I have enough control of myself now to hesitate, but that also means that when I _do_ finally step closer, it is entirely of my own volition, and the mixture of disappointment and longing that swells in me is almost intolerable. "What," I manage _finally_ , even if it's little more than a rasp, the metallic taste lingering in my mouth growing stronger again when I swallow hard to try and wet my throat. "What exactly _is_ it you plan to do to me?"  
  
Zenos smiles again, all razor edges and biting teeth, and extends his hand to me. "Nothing more than you _desire_."  
  
_That answers nothing,_ I shout inwardly, but it does - it answers _everything_ , and the guilt that rises in me at that realisation is what spurs me to place my shaking hand in his.  
  
"How _alike_ we are, Warrior of Light. Possessed of the same abilities...the same _power_. I sensed it in you from the time you first stood before me, defiant and proud despite your sickening, pitiful weakness. Yet all this time, you knew precisely nothing of your true potential, or from whence it comes." Drawing me against his armoured front almost tenderly, Zenos strokes my hair as if to soothe before pressing a finger beneath my chin, lifting my eyes to his once more. "Do not look so confused - I speak of the Echo, of course. A manifestation of boundless ability, one that renders its bearer immune to eikonic influence...or perhaps one could say it merely makes their _own_ influence the stronger, to the same ends. Yet that is but one inconsequential piece of the entire puzzle."  
  
Letting his hand drop, he stoops so that his face is near to mine, close enough that I feel his breath hot on my lips as he stares me right in the eyes, and there is that _strange_ feeling again that something is awakening in the depths of his gaze. "It is through van Baelsar's most _thorough_ reports that endless possibilities have become known to me. One can use this power to bend those without it to their will, to see their deepest secrets - to _bind_ them to its user, whether they be human, beast, or even _eikon_. Hence the necessary research was brought to my attention," he raises his hand once more, settles it against my cheek, and the warmth of his bare skin surprises me as I hadn't even noticed him removing its shielding armour. "It was those reports that led to the very _genesis_ of the Resonant, those implanted with shards of the Echo...and to so much more. Have you never wondered what it is that sets mankind apart from the lesser - from the beasts that snap and snarl at any who venture too near, the thralls who no longer have a mind worthy of calling their own, their pitiful ilk?"  
  
"No," I manage to breathe out, though I'll never know how, because I feel as if I'm drowning and it isn't even an unpleasant sensation. "I never have."  
  
"Only mankind," Zenos continues, stroking my cheek delicately with his thumb, and there is definitely _something_ in his eyes now that I cannot identify, "has the wisdom and the clarity to embrace violence for its own sake. Only mankind fights for the very _joy_ of it, as opposed to the howling mongrels who fight simply because their sorry instincts tell them to do so. Why is that? - because we who are born into this merciless, meaningless world have but a single candle of life to burn, and must find joy wherever we can." He bends his head further, and for a dizzying moment I find myself all but certain our lips will meet, but instead he rests his forehead against mine so that I see nothing but the pristine blue of his eyes. "I know you understand this, my dear Warrior. You and I...we are one and the same, after all. And that is why I wish to _keep_ you, the only one I have ever met who _understands_ me." His other hand, similarly bare as the first, settles at the other side of my face, and his voice drops to a low, sinful whisper that I do not so much hear as _feel_. "Together, we could while away the quiet hours, as friend and confidant...if only you will accept me, Y'senia."  
  
The sound of my name on his lips awakens something within me, a consuming desperation, and I don't even think - I _act_ , pushing myself closer, throwing my arms about his neck with heedless abandon and giving him my answer in a single helpless gasp.  
  
"I will - I _will_ accept you."  
  
He smiles and kisses me then, sharp and devouring, and my entire body comes alive with a depth of sensation I have never before known.  
  
Utterly lost before I can even comprehend it, I hardly notice when he lifts me as if I weigh no more than a feather, and it's not until I am on my back amidst the flowers that I'm the least bit aware he has even moved to lay me down, panting harshly and blinking up at him - his body looms over mine now, surrounded by a halation of brilliance from the sunlight it blocks out, and I can't help but dimly think that like this, he may perhaps be the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. "I - please," I gasp out, not even honestly sure what I am about to say, "do not - _tease_ me, I...I can't possibly..." but embarrassment takes me then, most infuriatingly, and I trail off into a breathless whine, making to turn my eyes away but finding my efforts stymied by the deceptively gentle way he seizes hold of my chin. "I - I..."  
  
"Be not ashamed," Zenos murmurs, soft and almost hypnotic, the faintest of light sparking in his eyes. "Speak plainly; how am I to know what you wish otherwise?"  
  
"I..." Slowly, shakily, I take a breath and obediently attempt to force down the tightness that chokes my voice to nothing, using that barely-noticeable glimmer as something to focus on that _isn't_ overwhelming shame. "I want - to feel you...I want you to feel _me_ , and the - the pleasure I can give you...no teasing, no hesitation, simply...our bodies as one..." forced to pause there again, the desire burning through me so strong that I can briefly make no sound in the face of it, I wet my lips with a trembling flicker of tongue and tangle my fingers into the sun-bright spill of hair over his shoulders. " _Please_. Let me...let me feel you. Let me join with you..."  
  
Zenos looks utterly delighted, the strange light in his eyes growing stronger, and traces my lips gently with a finger as if he can't quite believe those words came from me (which, somewhat embarrassingly, I understand; _I_ can't really believe I just said them either.) "My, you can be _most_ delightfully honest, I see...I am impressed. Very well - for that alone, I will give you what it is you want," he murmurs, and then he's raising his body away from mine (much to my chagrined disappointment) to begin removing his armour with an unhurried ease, one which I cannot help but envy as I sit dizzily up and begin tugging at my clothes with clumsy hands. "And so _eager_ , too - you truly grow more and more irresistible with each passing moment. At this rate I may simply have to keep you forever." --a frightening concept, to be sure, but even that can't dampen the heat raging within me, and all I can do is shyly duck my head just a little, biting my lip to hold back a small whimper that nonetheless escapes once he's free of his armour; beneath is nothing but a thin singlet and smallclothes, probably the very _least_ he needs to shield his skin from the bite of unyielding metal and certainly not enough to leave anything to the imagination, and I'm certain I must be staring but there isn't a damned thing I can (or want to, if I am honest) do about it. "Oh, do not _stare_ at me so, like a ravenous beast. If you wish to devour me - then what is it that stops you?"  
  
"I...that was not my intent," I say weakly, but even I don't entirely believe my own self, and my traitorous hands are already reaching for him by the time I've said that much, the heat within me burning all the more strongly when he kneels before me in a mischievous show of obedience - one I know better than to truly take at face value, and I don't _want_ to anyway, the thought of him submitting to me ringing a bit sour in the back of my mind. "You...you said it yourself. We are one and the same; we stand as equals. If there's to be any devouring, then - we must devour each _other_ ," and it's honestly surprising how his eyes go just the very smallest bit wide, my words clearly unexpected. "Would that...not please you? To lose yourself in me, all _sense_ of self - while I lose my own self in you, and there is no longer prince, no longer warrior, but simply _us_. A freedom, of sorts..." my voice breaks just a little, at the distant shame of voicing one of my most secret wants, but I valiantly pretend that didn't happen as I carry on, nervously settling a hand against the marks left on his neck from my earlier biting. "I would...give you that freedom for a time, if you would have it. A respite, if only small...and I would have it from you, in return."  
  
His eyelids flutter the slightest bit, as if trying not to close, and Zenos says nothing for a long moment, instead placing a hand over mine as he studies my face; perhaps trying to ascertain if I speak truth, I think, and I feel a wrenching surge of pity for him. Royalty he may be, Garlemald's heir, yet I have never gotten the impression he cares for the politics or the position, instead viewing them as a heavy weight upon his shoulders - a feeling I know in my own way, burdened as I am with the responsibilities of a Warrior of Light, the tasks I must carry out no matter how much they wear at me. _One and the same, indeed--_ and the thought brings a wretched, miserable amusement, one I push quickly aside. "A respite," I instead repeat, more strongly, and when his fingers twitch against mine, I feel a slow relief beginning to kindle within me, the unconscious reaction telling me everything I need to know. "Will you not have it...have _me_ , Zenos?"  
  
"I--" he begins, clearly not intending to have spoken from the way surprise flashes across his face, but nonetheless he goes on. "My name. Say it again."  
  
So that's the way of it, I realise, and I find myself smiling, leaning up so our mouths are mere ilms apart, my voice no more than a heartfelt breath on his faintly-parted lips. " _Zenos_..."  
  
He trembles briefly, yet violently, as if he doesn't know how to _react_ to that single word from my lips (a thought which, the instant I have it, I promptly push away, because it may well be true and that pains me deeply) - but it is only the slightest of moments before that flash of vulnerability is gone, his arms abruptly around me and his mouth descending on mine in a kiss the likes of which I have never experienced before, sharp and biting and coaxing out a feral instinct in me that I would never have imagined even existed before this day; I don't even realise for a time that I am clinging to him in desperation, digging frantic nails into his back in what I can only assume is an attempt to pull myself closer still even though there _is_ no 'closer' to go, and when I do realise it's only because he's reluctantly parting from me to remove that last damnable layer of cloth that rests between us, preventing us from truly becoming one. "Lay back," he hisses roughly, an order I obey immediately, and that brings a sharp smile to his lips that only grows when I at last see him truly bare before me, my eyes widening to the point I'm sure I must look absolutely comical. "Why, whatever _is_ the matter? Do not tell me you have never lain with another before. I would never have thought the Warrior of Light herself to be as a chaste maiden, blushing and virginal."  
  
I would be insulted, really, but that would take far more effort than I'm willing to put forth right now. "Of course I am no innocent," I manage instead, swallowing hard to hold back a faint whine when his smile seems to grow even more sharp edges, "but I - you are rather...that is..." my voice fails me there, and I can only let my eyes flicker lamely downward, hoping he knows what exactly I mean, because I'm not certain I could manage to say it if I had to. "I was, ah...surprised. That's all..."  
  
"Ah," he says, and the smirk his smile has become is _entirely_ not reassuring. "I see now. Any former partners were far less _impressive_ , were they?"  
  
"...Mayhap so," I admit in a reluctant mutter, my cheeks flaring brilliantly red, a fact I try valiantly to ignore. "Are you _certain_ this is--"  
  
One eyebrow arches, almost tauntingly, as he finishes the sentence for me before I have a chance. "Possible? I have the _utmost_ confidence in such...and I find it almost insulting that you would not. But then again, you _are_ rather like me; unsatisfied with words, you prefer actions, something tangible to seize on as proof of things. Therefore," he sets himself over me even as he speaks, close enough I can feel the heat that radiates from him, that the spill of hair over his shoulders falls against my own in a silken caress, and all of a sudden it is all I can do not to seize hold of him and kiss him desperately. "I shall give you that proof. It is what you want, is it not?"  
  
I can't speak for a long moment, feeling as if I am drowning in his eyes, in the depths of his brilliant stare - and brilliant it _is_ , his eyes alight with something I would swear is aetheric in nature despite knowing his heritage. (Surely it can't be...but though the very idea ought to be laughable, I cannot simply discard it so easily, though I try.) "...It is," I answer finally, a quiet breath, and when he shifts so his body covers mine more completely, I feel my pulse beginning to quicken in anticipation. "I ask only that - at the first, pray be a _bit_ gentle with me. It would not do for my screams to bring anyone running..." trying to make a joke of it, I give a wry smile, inhaling slowly as he rests his hands on my thighs and pushes them apart. "Besides, it will...give you the chance to enjoy the moment of our joining...before we lose ourselves..."  
  
"It will," he agrees easily enough, but the sharpness to his expression is not reassuring, and it is all I can do not to tense up in nervousness, a feeling not exactly assuaged when he abruptly sits back and reaches for me, pulling me into his lap. "Mayhap _you_ will appreciate this idea, then - I would see you fill _yourself_ with me. Allow me to watch every moment as you take me within you...as _gentle_ as you prefer. You find this an acceptable compromise, I expect?"  
  
The shiver that goes up my spine at the mere thought is forceful enough to take my breath away, and I'm certain the sound I just made is not something that would ever be heard in polite company, but I'm too far gone to be embarrassed - I want this too much, and if anything, the thought of letting him _watch_ as he enters me is only making me even hotter, even more desperate. "Yes," I gasp out, hardly even a word, "gods, _yes_ \--" and he doesn't even have time to smirk at my reaction before I'm reaching down, curling fingers round his thick shaft to hold him in place (and gods, it _is_ massive, sending a nervous thrill through me) as I shakily shift into position, inhaling slowly when I feel the first hint of pressure against me. It's now or never; I can either back off, which I have no intentions of doing, or I can press on, cross that line that I can never step back over and love every minute of it--  
  
The choice is obvious, really.  
  
One more breath, steadying myself - and slowly, gently, I ease myself down, letting out a guttural groan at the burning stretch as he slides into me.  
  
" _Oh_ ," Zenos breathes, a sound of pure transcendent awe, as his hands immediately go to my hips to hold on tight, and something about his reaction dimly strikes me as passing strange; for all his earlier dominance, for how he turned me into a mewling heap of naught but pure need with his words and actions, the way he is acting now makes it almost seem like he had no _idea_ of how it would be to at last be one with me, and the thought is almost enough to make me want to laugh. Surely that _cannot_ be the case, there's absolutely no way the crown _bloody_ prince of Garlemald can possibly be a virgin - but damn it all, I just can't dismiss the possibility, and I must be giving him a rather interesting look from the way he speaks up in a breathless huff. "Do _not_ tell me...you are having second thoughts after coming this far...?"  
  
"No," I assure him quickly, giving my head a hard shake and letting out a surprised whine when he shifts against me, even that small movement bringing a wave of searing pleasure. "That isn't it at all - I only..." a slight pause, trying to think of how to say this diplomatically, which would be difficult even if he were not buried to the hilt inside me and has become almost impossible because of the fact he _is_. "I-I would almost think...that _you_ have never lain with another. But I'm certain...that is not the case at all, so...pray forgive me any insult..."  
  
Zenos pauses, looks at me most intently even despite his eyes being hazed over with lust, and I honestly don't know how to parse that expression - or his brief silence. "Oh? And why are you so certain?"  
  
"I - well, you are..." I trail off, blinking slowly, because he can't possibly be making the implication that I wasn't _wrong_ , can he? "...Would the prince of a nation...not have countless prospects to enjoy?" (A safe enough question, I hope; I don't have the coherency to soften the language any more, and this is not exactly the safest position to be in should he take offence.)  
  
" _Prospects_ ," Zenos says, ending on a disgusted, breathy sigh, mouth twisting just a little. "But only that...I have no interest in sharing myself with mewling sycophants and crude boors, to become naught but a notch on some braggart's bedpost or a symbol of status not actually _earned_. You are the first I have ever wished to claim - and I expect you understand how much of an honour it is. You are not unintelligent, after all--" and the compliment, so unexpected, makes me blush so hard I'm certain my cheeks must actually be afire, my face instinctively burying into his shoulder and earning what sounds _suspiciously_ like a stifled chuckle. "Come now, this is no time for embarrassment. It would be most unlike you not to finish what you have begun...and truly, we _have_ only just begun. Or are you so overwhelmed you simply cannot bear to continue? Would you be so unkind as to disappoint me like that?"  
  
I know he's only teasing, but the thought is sour in my mind, and I'm certain I must look unrepentantly sulky as I raise my head to look him in the eye, countering with a question of my own. "You would make me think I have rendered you helpless by merit of merely having you _inside_ of me? Is that it?"  
  
He blinks once, a slow shuttering of dark lashes, and then he is laughing - outright laughing, a sound of sheer jubilance, holding none of the anger of his earlier mirth. "Oh, you _are_ perfect--" and then he's tangling his fingers into my hair, pulling me in for a biting kiss to silence his laughter against my lips, and any sour feelings are quickly gone to nothingness as I lose myself in the heat of his mouth against mine, the feel of him atop me as he lays me back once more and proceeds to drive me _completely_ out of my mind, movements so smooth and practiced that I would never believe his inexperience if he hadn't admitted it straight to my face. (Even then it's so hard to believe, and it is not as if I don't know how to tell if someone is telling untruths about who they've been with; having had both greatly experienced and completely virginal lovers in the past, even if it is embarrassing to so much as _think_ about, I have become at least a _bit_ knowledgeable about intimacy and its tells.) It almost feels as if we were somehow meant to do this, none of the pain or even discomfort I'd expected on seeing him bared to me for the first time having manifested - but that thought is coming perhaps a bit too close to things I don't think I should be dwelling on and so I push it away, instead letting myself revel in the pure ecstacy.  
  
I will not last, I'm sure, and yet, I don't care one bit.  
  
"If I had imagined," Zenos pants out at my ear, and I can't stop the shivery whine that escapes me at the feel of his hot breath, "you would feel so _exquisite_ , I would have done this so much sooner--" a thought that stirs up even more excitement in me, somehow, and I let my head fall back against the ground in delight, a gasping cry escaping me when he takes advantage of this to latch onto my now-exposed neck with a fierce bite; returning the earlier favour, I suppose, but it's simply too overwhelming for me to dwell on the thought for long, my fingertips pressing into his back and my lips forming incoherent words and noises that only grow more frantic the closer he drives me to my inevitable release. It won't be long now, I'm sure to lose control soon and I desperately want to take him over that metaphorical edge with me - and no sooner has the thought crossed my mind than I'm shifting my hands, replacing the pressure of fingers with the points of my nails and dragging them sharply along his back, and the way he arches and lets out an ecstatic groan that seems to come from the deepest depths of his chest is more than enough reason to keep going. (Never mind that I'm likely leaving some rather angry welts all up and down his back now - the thought that even when they are later hidden, the sting of them will linger and remind him what we've done, is so viscerally _wonderful_ that I very nearly come right then and there, only a supreme effort of willpower holding me back.)  
  
"Yes - _harder_ , do it _again_ \--" his voice is a bare hiss against my neck, more felt than heard, and I'm more than happy to comply, digging my nails in _hard_ until they bite through skin and flesh alike, until the wetness against my fingers betrays the blood that wells up in their wake.  
  
The noise he makes is indescribable; his teeth sink sharp into my neck, and I'm so far gone even the pain feels good, my body arching straight off the ground and a wild cry bursting from my lips as I come, so forcefully my vision is drowned in a sea of white light.  
  
It is not long at all - or so I would assume, as it's very difficult to tell the passage of time when I can't _think_ in the least - before he follows me into release, because when I'm coherent enough that the world around me is no longer a formless blur, he's settled himself unmoving atop me (carefully, _so_ carefully, not daring to rest his entire weight against me) and is licking trails of blood from my neck, the ministrations making me tremble vaguely now that I can consciously realise just how sensitive I still am from all of that. "Oh," I manage to breathe at last, with another, sharper shiver when he nips at my neck again before lifting his head to look at me, and the way he's gazing at me is so surprisingly _soft_ that I almost feel like I ought to be embarrassed. "Are you...nn...absolutely certain...you have _not_ done that before?"  
  
He snorts a laugh, clearly surprising himself from how awkward his expression briefly turns, and shakes his head. " _Absolutely_ certain. I would almost think you wish to imagine me with others--" he smirks as he says it, and now I can feel my own expression going hazily sour, the knowledge that he was aiming for exactly that reaction not proving the least bit helpful in staving it off. "Come now, do not frown at me so. Jealousy does not become you in the slightest - as I have told you, none other has ever awakened the feelings within me that you have. I had long ceased to hope that any man existed who could possibly make me feel something, anything, but anger and boredom...and yet..." trailing off, he sighs softly, brings a hand up to cup my cheek and simply looks at me for a long moment, as if too afraid to spoil the moment further. "...I know not what to _do_ with myself, now. Having realised what I cannot have, what I will be forced to consign to the hands of another...it is...a most _bitter_ feeling."  
  
I know I shouldn't feel like my heart is breaking at that, but I do, the pain nearly too much to bear for a long moment, rendering me unable to do anything but lean into his touch and breathe until I don't think I'm going to start crying. "You could have it," I finally start, quiet, unsure, "if - if only you did not stand _against_ us--" but we both know that's hardly possible, even if he _is_ the prince of all Garlemald, or perhaps _because_ he is. "...I don't want it to simply end here either. If only we didn't have to be enemies - even if it meant sneaking about, never letting ourselves be seen, be known - even that much would be better than never being able to lay with you again. And you - you deserve better than what you have had until now," the words burst from me in an impassioned cry, one I hadn't meant to voice but certainly can't take back now. "No one deserves an existence void of affection, of friends, of love - no matter who they are! You are no exception..."  
  
Looking like he isn't exactly sure what to make of my outburst, Zenos simply just looks at me for a long moment, blinking slowly as he absently strokes his fingers along my cheek. "Love, you say," he murmurs finally, the word seeming thick and almost foreign on his tongue, as if he's never so much as spoken it before - which may well be true. "I would have you tell me something. What then, to you, is 'love'?"  
  
"What...? Well..." Not expecting the question, I fumble, forced to mull it over for several long moments before I can answer and desperately hoping I don't sound foolish. "Love is...it's _warm_ , first of all. A warmth that sparks in the depths of your heart, that cannot be extinguished by even the most bitter cold...it's being content to simply spend time with someone, words and actions purely unnecessary...it's when you can't bear to see someone hurting, when you would do anything to take the pain, just so they no longer have to bear it themselves. It's understanding someone beyond words or conscious thought. It's feeling like you've known them forever, even if it's only fair recent you met. It's...wanting to spend eternity at their side," and here I can't help but choke up a little, taking a deep breath. "P-pray forgive me. I seem to be a bit too...overwhelmed to speak of this properly right now. My apologies..."  
  
"None necessary," Zenos murmurs, strokes my cheek once more and then lets his hand fall away, lifting himself off of me with obvious reluctance, the both of us making a small sound when he pulls out of me. "I did not intend to ask such a difficult question of you. You have my thanks, nonetheless, for answering it despite that." Fetching his underthings, he pauses a moment before putting them back on, turning his head to look at me again as I sit slowly up. "...Your words have given me much to consider. To that end, I would put an idea to you."  
  
Unable to deny curiosity, I tilt my head even as I reach for my smallclothes. "An idea?"  
  
"The eikon," Zenos says bluntly. "Think you that you still have the ability, after all of that, to destroy it?"  
  
My eyes widen, and I find myself turning to look at the confined eikon, taking a slow breath. Certainly he can't mean... "Right _now_?" I question incredulously, and when he inclines his head slightly in agreement, the surprise only grows, followed by determination that kindles hot within me. "...It would not be the _absolute_ worst time I have faced an exceptionally powerful foe, I must admit. It would be risky, but...yes. I think myself able."  
  
Zenos smiles at that, gentle and a little wistful, and nods again. "Then I would have you do exactly that. Destroy it - I will not stand in your way."  
  
Even as hazy as my mind still is, the enormity of his veiled meaning strikes me immediately, and I can't stop my eyes from welling up with overwhelmed tears.  
  
"Your words, as I said, have given me much to consider. Mayhap I should be thanking you - it is a certainty that I would never have walked this path of my own avail." Now fully armoured again, Zenos tosses his hair back, shrugs to settle his breastplate more comfortably and retrieves his weapon, head lifting to gaze up at the eikon with an unreadable stare. "...Truth be told, I now allow this as it makes no difference whether you slay it or let it live. If you had disappointed me, however..." Trailing off, he makes a low sound, almost a wry chuckle, and shakes his head. "Nay, let us not speak of that. It is no use dwelling on what could have been, when it never came to pass. Instead--" shifting his grip on the katana's hilt, he glances back at me, and when he sees me once more clothed and on my feet, he looks satisfied. "Instead, I would have you entertain me once more. To see you bring your true strength to bear, now that I have the opportunity to watch you from a _neutral_ perspective...the very thought excites me. Do make it good, hm?"  
  
I can't keep a slight bitter sadness from my smile, though I _do_ try, but if he notices, he says nothing. "I feel I should be insulted that you think I would do aught else."  
  
"I expected no less," Zenos says lightly, and with a single swift movement, the barrier is severed.  
  
Two things happen at that instant: the eikon awakens, uncurling its scaly body with a great roar, and I am immediately filled with the gnawing horror that something is very, _very_ wrong.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle is won, but at what cost?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...
> 
> *throws hands in air* _Plot_. Has a mind of its own, I _swear_.
> 
> (I didn't just lean into the feels; I dove headfirst into them. You are summarily warned.)
> 
> Also, behold some of smol!Senia's life. And my vague confusion over Garlean royal titles. I'm _pretty_ sure Zenos would still hold the yae title at 14 since he's in the royal bloodline, and the line of succession? Probably? Maybe? Sod it, it works.

_[Twelve years previous...]_

I would almost swear the construct in front of me, the lifeless mass of wood and straw, is taunting me.  
  
"You know what to do, girl," come words at my ear that I still can't grow used to, echoing from the strange device fitted there, but though I startle and shake my head harshly like I do every time, it remains fixed firmly in place and the voice continues on. "Our test results show that you should have no difficulty whatsoever drawing on the aspect of water - and the Praefectus is becoming most displeased that you still apparently refuse to do so. I would advise you not to continue with this recalcitrance; you know what will happen should you outlive any...use you may have to the Empire. You understand me, do you not? Then get to work. I expect to see some progress by the time this session is over...or I am afraid you will quite mislike what happens."  
  
(I'm certain I would mislike it no matter what happens, but I remain silent.)  
  
The device buzzes once, then falls blessedly silent, and after a few deep breaths I almost feel I can concentrate again, taking a shaky step forward and tilting my head back to look up at the towering dummy. More than twice my height, painted in imperial black and crimson to cut a foreboding figure, it is scarred with the marks of countless blades, its paint scorched and splintered from myriad magicks - some of it, I will admit, my own, though to recall the pitiful flames that were all my small body could call forth is most embarrassing. Would that I could draw on stronger energies, then perhaps...but no, it's no use thinking about it, not when it only sends me even further down the spiral of fear and self-loathing, and so I push the thoughts away to take a shaky stance and close my eyes.  
  
Focus--  
  
Deeper, ever reaching, grasping at threads of something cool and fluid and indistinct.  
  
Something that, still, will not answer me.  
  
What is it that I'm missing? What is wrong?  
  
I know not how much time passes, how many attempts fail, before the voice sounds again, but by then I am all but consumed with miserable fury, my fists clenched tight and tears pouring mute down my face. "Truly, you make for a most pitiful sight," it says, followed by a sigh, but then somewhat unexpectedly, the words soften just enough to be noticeable. "Very well; you will get nowhere in such a state. You may have a small respite, as it would well serve no one were you to do harm to yourself. Get ahold of yourself and we shall continue." --and somehow that stings far worse than any scolding, striking against something painful I have not the words to name, something that spurs me to drag myself up to my full (yet inconsiderable) height and once more face that Twelve-damned dummy, salt trails burning hot on my cheeks from humiliated anger. I will not stand for this - I cannot, the insult that even those who would imprison me are trying to show pity proving too much to bear--  
  
It is as I am reaching deep again that I sense a presence behind me, one that I am certain was not there before, and terror blooms within me as I whirl, a chill maelstrom seeming to erupt within my chest.  
  
The water that I have somehow - finally, amazingly - pulled from the aether that surrounds me flies from my fingers, aimed straight and true into the face of the golden-haired young man who stands several yalms away.  
  
A face I...have seen before.  
  
We merely blink at each other for a long moment - him in drenched, placid bemusement, me in a mixture of jubilation and horror at what I've done - and then it is as if time itself comes alive from being unceremoniously frozen, a cacophony of panic arising, but just as numerous figures are converging on the training ground, the young man puts out a hand to stop them all without once breaking eye contact with me. "Wait," he says, sharp and detached, with all the air of someone who is used to giving orders and having them followed without question - and while I should probably be grateful for it, I am only beginning to feel a bit sick at the apparent gravity of my inadvertent actions. "Take not one more step. I would observe for a time longer."  
  
The owner of the voice that has so tormented me - the pale-faced, white-coated official who is eyeing me with horrified fury - takes a step forward nonetheless, only to pale further and freeze in place when the young man's head turns towards him slightly. "But - Lord Zenos, this impudent brat must not--"  
  
Wait. What did he just say...?  
  
The young man, I realize with a start, is none other than Zenos yae Galvus - great-grandson of the Emperor, potential future heir to all Garlemald--  
  
It seems I have apparently, in all my infinite _wisdom_ , just done the aetheric equivalent of throwing a water balloon at Garlean royalty, and the fear that wells within me is nigh overwhelming in its intensity.  
  
"I would _observe_ ," Zenos repeats, all sharp edges and crystalline chill, and if I were not terrified beyond belief right now, I would likely think it funny that they all take a nervous step back as one at his icy tone. "Alone. Or do you think me incapable of fending off a single frightened child, should she _somehow_ find the courage to even twitch a finger?"  
  
"That is - I merely - er..." The official visibly deflates, takes another step back, and though I had never imagined I might feel sympathy for his like, I do understand how he must feel as he bows his head in resignation. "M-my sincerest apologies, Lord Zenos. I, ah - I would only ask that you do not interfere with...with the remainder of the session. There is still far more data to be obtained - n-now that whatever apparent stumbling block was in the way has been overcome, I would - I would see just how much power the child might be able to bring to bear - b-but of course you are more than welcome to observe," he's almost stumbling over the words by the end, so quickly is he rushing to get them out, and when Zenos' posture shifts like he's about to turn, that's enough to send the man turning tail and fleeing back into the safety of wherever it is he's been unceremoniously taunting me from, only one last hurried burst of speech trailing behind him. "W-we will - resume in five minutes, no more--"  
  
Zenos flicks his fingers, like he's scattering droplets from them, and sweeps wet hair back out of his face, still not breaking eye contact with me as he takes a slow, leisurely step forward. "...You. What is your name?"  
  
It takes me a moment to remember I can speak, surprise and fear warring with each other to keep a tight grasp on my throat, and I can't keep my ears from flattening forward in nervous humiliation when the first attempt results in nothing but a nearly inaudible squeak; thankfully, he does not seem to take offence (or perhaps is just hiding it well), and the second try produces enough voice for me to form words. "...Y'senia. I...I think."  
  
"You think," he echoes, one eyebrow raising slightly, looking most unimpressed. "You cannot even be sure of your own _name_?"  
  
My shoulders hunch a little, instinctively, and I look down at the ground, ears flattening further and tail tucking between my legs - I should have expected that response, I know, but somehow it stings anyway, in a way it never has any of the previous times I've heard it from others. "..."  
  
Zenos studies me for a long moment, then slowly nods and folds his arms, though his expression does not change. "Ah," he says, with the air (but not the tone) of someone who has just made a momentous discovery, "I know who you are--" and that surprises me, because I can think of no reason one of the royal family would know of my existence at all. "The so-called aetheric prodigy, the child who would become a weapon of the Empire. How...fortuitous, I suppose; I _had_ wished to judge your skill for myself - and now the chance is before me. Very well, then." A toss of his head, sending tiny drops flying from the ends of his hair, and he nods towards the dummy, still expressionless. "What can you do?"  
  
It takes me a moment to answer, because I'm still mentally reeling at what I've just been told - a prodigy? A _weapon_? - but finally, I find at least a _few_ words perhaps suitable, keeping my eyes down. "I - I'm s-sorry. If they told you I'm any good - they lied," and I can't keep the bitterness from my tone, feeling that as long as Zenos stands between me and that damned official, I may be safe enough to get away with it. "I-if you're going to punish me for what I've done, then...then get it over with. I didn't mean to..." my shoulders hunch further, and despite everything, I can't keep my tail from lashing just a little, which betrays the anger I'm trying to hide behind my hopeless deference. "Please. At least...make it quick."  
  
"No," Zenos responds slowly, almost drawing it out, and when I raise my eyes to look at him in surprise, he looks strangely...intrigued, somehow. "Punishing you is not my intent. I mean to observe, as I said." Another nod towards the dummy, one hand coming up to flick at his still-wet hair. "...You have done it once, you can do it again. I would see that technique of yours used on something other than _me_. Unless," he continues, and now the corner of his mouth curls into the briefest of smirks, "you truly think yourself _unable_ to spend your impotent fury on something that cannot fight back?"  
  
(I would almost think actual amusement coloured his words, if I were a bit more certain I could read him at all.)  
  
"Is that the case, then? I see...I have no choice." Zenos doesn't even wait for me to say anything; he casts a disinterested glance about the training ground, then faces me squarely, and he's _definitely_ smirking as he spreads his arms wide, seeming to relish my confusion. "If the only way I am to ascertain your skill is to _bear_ it, then so be it. Spend yourself on me, little weapon - show me the fire within you. Show me why you have been kept. Why you have survived. Make it worth my while," his eyes narrow, and while the coldness in his expression brings fear, it also sets a strange determination alight in my chest. "Do _not_ make me regret acknowledging you."  
  
I can dimly hear a clamour of voices behind him, the damned white-coats clearly meaning to make another appearance at his reckless behaviour, but somehow, I don't care - somehow, I know that as long as he stands between me and them, as long as he looks at me with that challenging gaze, I need not be afraid.  
  
If he wants to bear the brunt of my pain, I will let him - because his words have shown me exactly why I can't seem to overcome my own self.  
  
_Something that cannot fight back...is not worth my time.  
  
_ "...I won't," I whisper, reeling with the realisation, and when I reach deep with my mind this time, the power that swells in me is a beautiful crescendo.

* * *

Silence falls across the Menagerie at long last, and I come back to myself with a start. _Is...it over?  
  
_ One quick glance around seems, at least, to confirm exactly that. Lyse and Alphinaud flank me on either side, where they'd taken up positions there when they'd burst onto the scene a short time before, and another glance sets my senses on the unmoving form sprawled in the flowers only a few yalms away, on dark armour and sun-bright hair and the scent of blood - and I'm starting forward before I can stop myself, but I am so exhausted that I get only half a step before I drop to one knee, my head spinning and my pulse pounding unsteadily in my ears. "Did," I manage to pant out, and though I want to shrug Alphinaud off when he's immediately near with healing magic at his fingertips, I can't quite manage it. "Did we...win?"  
  
"It seems like it," Lyse agrees, breathless and still a little angry, and then she's kneeling next to me too, lifting my head with a knuckle under my chin so she can look me in the eye, the worry in her expression almost too much to bear. "But never mind that, for the moment - are you all right, Y'senia? I've never seen you fight like that," she pauses, her eyebrows drawing together into a frown, and I feel her fingertips on my neck, tracing skin just above the collar of my shirt. "I would almost think you were...possessed, or something of the like. You were so _angry_ \- what did he _do_ to you, before we got here?"  
  
"He didn't hurt me--" I can't quite keep the defensive tone from my voice, but thankfully, if she notices, she doesn't comment. "...I'm sorry. I think I...during the fight, I had a vision. It must have distracted me so much I couldn't hold back..." The last part isn't a lie, at least, and it wouldn't be the first time the Echo has sent me into a frenzy, though admittedly it doesn't happen _often_. "...Never mind that; listen to me. Please. The eikon...I didn't have to _fight_ him, if not for that! He was going to let me slay it, but - but when he let it free..." my shoulders shake violently once, and I'm forced to take a deep breath and hold it for a moment to calm myself. "It took him over, Lyse - it _made_ him attack me. I know this sounds unbelievable, but I swear it's the absolute truth! This didn't...it didn't have to end this way..."  
  
Lyse purses her lips in a sour frown, tracing my neck again; she definitely doesn't believe me, I'm certain of it. "And what of this, then? This doesn't look one bit like 'not hurt', Y'senia. In fact, it looks rather like something tried to take a bite out of..." she trails off, and I'm not honestly sure whether I want to run away, kick myself, or pretend I don't know what she's talking about. "...No. Don't tell me he did it. Do not."  
  
"I won't," I counter sulkily, and then I really _do_ want to kick myself, because that isn't exactly disagreeing with the concept.  
  
"He didn't. _You_ didn't." Lyse gives me an appalled look, or at least, what I'd assume is one - I'm not looking at her face to confirm it, after all. "Are you honestly saying that you and he--"  
  
"He didn't _force_ me! Don't even think it." Since she's obviously figured it out anyway, I'm not even going to bother trying to deny it; I'm too worn out, anyway, finally just lifting my gaze to hers, ignoring the dull headache throbbing behind my left eye. "I don't expect you to believe me. A few hours ago I wouldn't have believed me either. But I...I _understand_ him now, and I - he - I meant it, when I said I wouldn't have had to fight him. He just wanted...someone who knew how he felt, and who was strong enough to face him as an equal..." taking a slow breath, I close my eyes, because they're threatening to well up with tears. "...It's my fault the eikon took him, Lyse. He was too exhausted after we - after - you know - and he couldn't fight it off. It's all my fault we had to fight him at all..."  
  
Lyse draws breath to say something, probably an infuriated protest, but Alphinaud beats her to the punch, shaking his head. "Lyse, please. Y'senia is not one to lie, nor to take lives indiscriminately, even should they belong to an enemy - it _is_ rather unexpected, but honestly, I believe her. If she says there was no need to fight Zenos, had the eikon not interfered...then that must indeed be the case." Eyeing my neck for himself, he reaches up as if to heal that mark too, but then seems to decide against it, for which I can't help but be a little grateful in the back of my mind. "I would imagine she feels guilty enough as it is, and judgment is the last thing she needs right now. Pray hold your scoldings for the moment, won't you?"  
  
(Honestly, I could almost kiss him for that.)  
  
"...You're right," Lyse agrees reluctantly, lets the tension out of her shoulders with a heavy sigh, then puts her arms briefly round me in a gesture as much displeased squeeze as it is apologetic hug. "We have more important things to worry about for the moment, anyway. We may have won, but--"  
  
No longer really listening, I draw away and struggle to my feet, steps unsteady as I move to where Zenos' body is laying and kneel beside him - he looks so peaceful, really, and for a moment it hurts almost too much to bear, but soon enough I'm able to push the grief away and extend a hand to his neck, my heart feeling like it's leapt into my throat when I feel a weak but steady pulse beneath my fingers. "Alphinaud, quickly! He lives still," I burst out, and perhaps reacting more to my urgency than the actual words, Alphinaud is instantly at my side. "Pray assist me - there is still time! We must help him!"  
  
"You are mad," Lyse murmurs, but the vitriol has left her voice, and she isn't trying to stop us.  
  
With the both of us hard at work, it's only a few (interminably long, if you ask me, though I know better) moments before Zenos groans and stirs, and it's almost embarrassing how thoroughly relief floods me when his eyes open, exhausted recognition coming into his face when he sees me. "Ah," he says, barely a breath, and then he's laboriously pushing himself upright, shoulders shaking violently with a sharp cough that sends blood spattering across his lips. "So you have prevailed...after all. Just as expected...from the Bringer of Light," and I would almost swear he's _smiling_ , but the expression is so vague it's hard to tell - or perhaps it's just my own worried fear rendering me unable to parse it properly. "I am impressed. That even in such a hopeless situation, you would not hold back...truly, we are--" he interrupts himself for another fit of coughing, pressing his hand to his mouth, and he's out of breath by the time he can speak again, giving his head a slow and careful shake. "One and the same...indeed."  
  
"Zenos," I murmur, soft and anguished, and though I want to reach for him, something stays my hand. "I..."  
  
"Nay - save your words." Another headshake, this one slightly firmer, and Zenos reaches out to close trembling fingers round the hilt of his dropped sword, using it as support to climb to his feet in what I can only describe as a sad mockery of his usual proud posture. "I regret nothing, not one moment. In clashing with you, I feel I have found what it means to be _happy_ \- a feeling that for twenty-six _long_ summers has remained far outside my grasp. Having tasted such perfection, after all this time...if I were to perish on the spot, 'twould be no tragedy, but only a fitting end, an everlasting peace." Tilting his head back to look up at the sky, at the wisps of cloud that scutter by overhead, he takes a laboured breath, and the silence that follows makes me feel he is carefully deliberating on his next words. "Yes... _peace_. Yet as long as I remain in this world, there will _be_ no peace. Through you, I have realised that."  
  
"Pretty words," Lyse hisses, her hands in tight fists, as if she's only just holding herself back from attacking - I suppose I can't blame her, but at the same time, I feel cold all over with the urge to defend him, and that's not so easy a thing to push aside. "But words are only that. Y'senia may believe you have seen the error of your ways - and I know not what you've _done_ to her to convince her of that - but I don't believe it, not one bit. A monster like you, a rabid animal, does not so simply go from snapping at throats to trailing at heels! And you speak of feelings, of _happiness_ , like you would _know_ them? I could almost _laugh_. How ridiculous."  
  
A subtle tension threads itself into Zenos' shoulders, but he doesn't react further; he simply lowers his gaze to look at her, expression unreadable, and then exhales a sigh of quiet resignation. "Say of me what you will - it matters not. One cannot force another to believe their words, and I would not be suffered to _try_ at any rate. Not even if the time that remains to me could be measured in anything but mere moments." Another slow breath, then he is raising his sword, and for a few dizzying instants I'm genuinely confused as to what he's about to do - until he settles the edge of the blade at his own throat, resting it feather-light against his skin, sending icy horror lancing through me so strongly that I nearly go to my knees from the force of it. "This moment...ah, this moment. If only it could last forever...the transcendent _joy_ , the feel of my heart beating out of time. It is...so clear, so vivid...so _real_ , in a way that I have never known...not until _you_ \--" he turns his head to look at me, and when he sees the tears that have welled up in my eyes, he gives me a soft, sympathetic smile. "Do not grieve me, Warrior of Light. I regret nothing - I do not fear the end. Sooner would I let slip the threads of my own life while I still know happiness...rather than return to the solitary cage from which you have freed me."  
  
I want to speak; I want to cry out, to tell him to _stop_ , to stop him myself - but I cannot move, I cannot speak - I cannot even _breathe_.  
  
"Farewell, Y'senia," Zenos murmurs, and his smile is so dazzling, so _warm_. "My first friend...my enemy. My kindred spirit."  
  
Several things happen at once: Lyse is in motion, lunging to stop him; Alphinaud takes a step back in utter horror; and as a single swift movement sends blood spraying into the air, I _scream_.  
  
As he falls, so too do I - the myriad emotions are too much, and I am glad for the stifling unconsciousness that takes me in their wake, sparing me for at _least_ a little while.


End file.
